The Last Ditch by Richard Fox

Author:Richard Fox [Fox, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Triplane Press
Published: 2022-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

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Price leaned over her desk in Gage’s ready room. The slate with the fleet’s readiness report had gone mostly unread as she mouthed the speech she’d been rehearsing. A side door to the Commodore’s residence snapped open and Prince Aidan came running inside, Salis close on his heels, a bowl and spoon in hand.

“Master Aidan, you specifically asked for this cheese and pasta mixture.” Salis’ armor slid away from her face. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“It’s the wrong macaroni!” Aidan stomped a foot. “I want the twisty kind.”

“Pasta tastes the same. It doesn’t matter how it’s formed.” Salis fought to keep her anger in check.

“My Prince, the entire fleet is having trouble with supplies right now,” Price said. “Your many fine sailors are on reduced rations.”

“Like the starving kids in Biafura my mom used to tell me about?” Aidan asked. “She said they always wanted to eat my food.”

“It isn’t that bad. Not yet.” Price flipped over the slate with the report.

“Why are you in the fancy uniform? Isn’t it bedtime?” the boy asked.

“Important meetings. Important uniform,” she said as the main door opened. Salis moved to shield the prince as the Orion’s senior officers and the still rank-less Arlyss came in. “My Prince, I don’t think you want to be here for this. It is very boring adult matters.”

“But I could stay.” He raised an eyebrow at Salis. “I can sit and be quiet. I’ll have to know all this someday when I’m king. Right?”

“You can stay if you like, but…” Price said, glancing at the Genevan, “but you have to eat your dinner while you’re here.”

“OK!” Aidan ran to a chair against the bulkhead and jumped on it.

Salis mouthed “thank you” to Price.

The ship’s officers sat near the head of the conference table as more commanders from across the fleet called in as holos. Arlyss stood awkwardly behind Vashon.

“Senior staff meeting is called to order,” Price said. “I’ve read your reports, so we are going to brief by exception and by callout. First, Hephaestus, status on fabrication efforts?”

Captain Powell’s holo, her eyes sunken with exhaustion, appeared in the center of the table.

“Final repair parts for the Valiant were delivered nineteen hours ago. That takes our plasma magnetic formation reserves down to four units. My foundry can produce a new one every six days as the tolerances on those are razor-thin. As of now, I can produce one—I repeat, one—more. We’re critically low on tungsten alloys and we have no synthetic rhenium left. Zero.”

Price rubbed her forehead. “Supply, how long until we can get a resupply from the Cathay?” she asked.

“I have been attempting to contact every last seller and none are willing to do business with us,” Captain Ricci said. He’d been promoted to fleet Logistics Officer after the loss of the Muklos, a fleet supply vessel. “Our previous orders for foodstuffs and other raw materials have also been cancelled. There’s nothing coming from the Kongs, ma’am. I’ve asked the Arjan Singh if they’re getting any resupply or if they have anything to spare and they’re in the same situation as we are.

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